CHAPTER 235: CHAPTER 235: BETWEEN BROTHERS

Noel walked in silence, the cool air of the corridor brushing against his skin as he pulled off the ornate mask and tucked it into his coat. Balthor did the same beside him, running a hand down his face with a tired breath.

Noel’s dark green suit, now slightly scuffed from the earlier fight, clung to his frame.

A shadow flickered along the wall.

From the corner of the dim corridor, Noir emerged smoothly, her violet-tinged fur catching the mana-light as she trotted to Noel’s side. Her gaze flicked from Balthor to Noel, alert but calm.

"There you are," Noel muttered, crouching slightly to scratch the wolf behind the ear. "You followed the students?"

Noir gave a low chuff in response.

Balthor raised a brow. "Does she always sneak up like that?"

"Only when I tell her," Noel replied. Then added under his breath, "Yeah... I felt it too."

They reached a side exit, leading to a quieter alley behind the building. The night in Tharvaldur was crisp, the mountain wind brushing against their skin as they stepped out.

Balthor rubbed his arm, casting a final glance over his shoulder. "Well, that was... something."

Noel didn’t answer immediately. He stared up toward the building in the distance—toward the place they’d left behind. Then finally spoke.

"Don’t worry. You saw him again. That’s what matters."

Balthor glanced at him sideways. For a moment, he almost smiled.

Then they began walking, the night settling around them like a thin shroud of memory.

Balthor finally broke the silence, his voice a little softer than usual.

"...You were right, lad."

Noel glanced over at him.

Balthor kept his eyes forward. "That ain’t the same brother I used to know. Not even close. There was a time he’d spit at a man for rigging a dice roll. Now he’s talking about turning students into stakes for profit."

Noel said nothing.

Balthor continued, slower now. "He used to be... I don’t know. Wild, but honest. Fought for the thrill, drank for the songs, talked too damn much. But he had lines he wouldn’t cross. Now? He’s a business."

"Fifty years is a long time," Noel murmured. "Plenty of time to change."

Balthor gave a dry chuckle, almost bitter. "Aye. Long enough to turn a fighter into a damn merchant king. Back then, he had fire. Did stupid things, sure—but he had pride, and a sense of right, even if it was twisted. Now?" He shook his head. "Now he’s just cold. Efficient. No hesitation in his words, no weight behind what he’s doing. Just coin."

They passed beneath an overhanging bridge, the echo of laughter ringing from some distant balcony above.

Noel slowed slightly. "You regret coming with me?"

Balthor hesitated, then exhaled through his nose. "No. I needed to see it for myself. Needed to bury whatever hope I had left."

He glanced sidelong at Noel, voice quieter. "You were right, lad. He’s not the brother I used to know. And maybe I needed to hear that from someone else before I could really believe it."

Noel offered a small nod. "Didn’t say it to hurt you. Just didn’t want you blindsided."

"I know," Balthor muttered. "Doesn’t make it sting any less."

Balthor adjusted the strap on his shoulder and turned to Noel with a subtle frown. "So... what now, kid?"

Noel looked up briefly, then let out a slow breath. "Tomorrow," he said, "if everything goes as expected, we’ll go back. I’ll pull a few strings, say what I need to say. The idea is to keep the Estermont angle alive long enough to get closer."

Balthor raised an eyebrow. "And what if things don’t go as expected?"

Noel’s lips curled faintly. "Then we adapt. I’ve had worse hands to play with."

For a moment, the older dwarf studied him—serious, unreadable. Then he gave a soft grunt and nodded. "You’ve got that Thorne steel in you. Dangerous stuff when mixed with brains."

Noel shrugged, glancing over his shoulder. "We’ll see how far it gets us. But one way or another, I want to see how deep this rot goes."

They stopped at a quiet junction where their paths would split—one leading back to the guest quarters, the other toward the more secluded tunnels Noel had been using.

Balthor scratched his beard, then extended a hand. "Was good working with you, lad. Even if the night got bloody."

Noel took it firmly. "Likewise. And... yeah. Thanks for tagging along tonight."

Balthor narrowed his eyes. "You’re the one who asked me to bring you to that damn place, and you ended up in the middle of the arena. Next time, maybe try not to volunteer for a bloodbath, eh?"

Noel gave a small shrug. "I didn’t exactly plan on becoming the main event."

Balthor grunted. "Well, maybe don’t go catching that kind of attention again. One more fight like that and I’ll need a new set of nerves."

He paused, then added with a smirk, "Still, it was fun watching you wipe the floor with that ogre."

Noel glanced down at his suit, brushing off a bit of dust. "Tomorrow morning, I’ll give you the suit. Think you can take it to Noriel? Needs a few quick adjustments."

Balthor narrowed his eyes. "So now I’m your errand boy too?"

Noel gave a light shrug. "You’re the only one who won’t mess it up or lose it on the way."

Balthor snorted. "Keep piling it on, lad. One of these days I’ll start charging."

Noel gave a faint smirk, turning to head down his corridor.

Behind him, Balthor shook his head and muttered, "Damn brat," but a quiet chuckle escaped his lips all the same.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Noel exhaled, shoulders finally relaxing as he stepped into the dimly lit room. It was quiet—blessedly so. The mana-lantern on the wall glowed a soft amber, casting warm shadows across the stone floor. He shrugged off what remained of his dark green suit jacket and let it fall across the nearby chair.

A soft thud echoed beside him as Noir appeared out of the shadows, her sleek frame low to the ground. The panther-sized wolf walked over, her violet-accented fur ruffling faintly with each step.

Noel murmured, rubbing the back of her ears. "Did you have fun sneaking around?"

Noir gave a soft growl—almost smug.

Noel smirked. "Thought so."

He walked to the bed and sat on its edge, staring at the flickering light on the wall. Noir curled up near his feet without a word, tail swaying gently.

’Tomorrow’s the day...’

The thought hovered like a weight over his chest.

He leaned back slightly, arms resting on his knees. "If everything plays out like Torwan promised... it’ll confirm he’s really pulling strings behind the scenes. Two losses. Two wins. Just like he said."

His voice dropped lower.

"And if he’s telling the truth... I’ll finally have a piece I can use."

Noir raised her head, ears twitching. She watched him quietly.

Noel let out a slow breath. "I just need to be patient. One step at a time, just like always."

He stood, brushing his fingers through his hair and glancing toward the window. The night sky outside was dark, the stars barely visible between the carved stone beams.

"Come on," he said softly. "We’ve got an early day."

He walked toward the bed, pulling the thin blanket over himself. Noir padded over and laid down beside the frame, watchful even in rest.

As his eyes began to close, Noel’s final thought lingered like a whisper:

’Twenty-three days left.’